.

You were alone left out in the cold

Clinging to the ruin of your broken home

Too lost and hurting to carry your load

We all need someone to hold

-Vancouver Sleep Clinic, Someone To Stay

It must have been a record, how quickly she made it down to the lake. Her chest was heaving by the time she reached the shore, and a stitch needled her side, a reminder that she was still, technically, supposed to be in bed. Pushing aside the discomfort, Rose dropped to a slower pace and began to traverse the narrow path that bordered the water.

She'd meant to take the time to compose her thoughts, to work out what she was going to say and how she would react to anything he might respond with. But she'd barely managed ten paces when Scorpius caught sight of her. He was on his feet before she could blink, his long strides halving the distance between them. Rose had just enough time to draw in a breath that sounded like rushing water to her ears, before he was there in front of her.

Up close, he looked different than he had at a distance. More human, somehow, and less like a sculpture someone had carved to rest forever beside the still water of the Great Lake. There were shadows under his eyes, and a hint of stubble around his jaw. But his grey-blue eyes were as steady as ever.

The silence stretched as they stared at one another, the few feet between them wide and vast and unbreachable. Rose remembered how recklessly she had thrown herself at him in France, heedless of what his response might be. Her pulse tripped at the memory. She cleared her throat, and opened her mouth to say something, anything, to break the silence. But Scorpius beat her to it.

"Are you alright?" he asked, and the question was so simple, and yet so unanswerable, that for a long time Rose could only stare at him.

"I'm…" she faltered, abruptly aware of her tousled hair and bleary eyes. She'd meant to change before she came down here, hadn't she? In the excitement, there hadn't seemed time, but now she found herself wishing she'd at least stopped long enough to run her wand through her hair. "Fine."

Her voice gave her away. Scorpius took a step toward her, concern written on his features. "You're shivering. You shouldn't be out in this weather. Here." He was shrugging out of his cloak before she could protest, leaning close to drape it over her shoulders. It was warm and soft and rich with his familiar scent.

His hands lingered on her shoulders, before he let them drop. They were standing closer now, barely a handspan apart. A thousand things to say filtered through Rose's mind. But Scorpius got in first again.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Not long," she replied, drawing his coat tighter around her shoulders. "Maybe half an hour."

He studied her closely. "And you're sure you're - "

"I'm fine." She lifted her chin to meet his sceptical stare head-on. When he continued to look doubtful she huffed. "I know it might not always seem like it, but I am at least moderately capable of assessing my own well-being."

There was a long silence, before Scorpius' lips curved upwards, and he chuckled, a warm, genuine sound that reminded her of her dream.

"What's so funny?" she demanded, torn between frustration and relief.

He shook his head. "Oh, nothing. It's just good to hear you biting my head off." His smile stretched. "You must be feeling better."

She flushed, and dropped her head, embarrassment creeping up her spine. After all, she thought, Scorpius had saved her life. She had no right to snap at him over a simple question. Stupid.

"Rose?" the humour disappeared from Scorpius' voice. She felt more than saw him draw closer, and when she glanced up it was to see him studying her with a frown. "What's wrong?"

Sucking in a deep breath, she forced herself to raise her head, though she kept her gaze fixed on his left shoulder. "What I meant to say," she began shakily. "Is thank you for what you did, back in - back there. I owe you my life, and I'm - " she heard Scorpius click his tongue, but ploughed on as if she hadn't heard. "I'm grateful that you - that we - and I know that I can never repay you, but I hope - "

"Rose." He cut her off, and she swallowed. Her skin prickled at his proximity, every fibre of her being urging her to bridge the gap between them, to rest her head on his chest and let his warmth soak into her skin. But she stayed frozen, as still as if she were carved from stone. "Rose I'm not..." Scorpius stopped, then exhaled heavily and tried again. "I don't want your thanks. I didn't - I mean I couldn't - I'm just glad you're safe," he finished, sounding frustrated. "And listen, I need to explain something. About Durmstrang, about why I went. I need you to know that I - "

"I know," she said, and he broke off. When she chanced a glance at his face, it was to find him staring at her in bewilderment.

"You know?"

She nodded, returning her gaze to his shoulder, unable to bear the look in his eyes. "Yes. I know. About the letters. About… that you wrote to me."

There was a long silence. "How can you know that?" Scorpius asked eventually, his voice low and wary.

Rose took a deep breath. She clenched her jaw, determined not to succumb to the emotions stewing in her chest, and when she spoke, she was proud of how expressionless her voice was. "Jean told me."

Scorpius' whole body stiffened. "Jean?" he echoed in a disbelieving voice. "Jean told you? Orelio?"

Rose gave a jerky nod, knowing any answer would only give away how close she was to tears, and heard Scorpius swear under his breath.

"What did he tell you?" he asked, stepping even closer until she felt like she was drowning in his presence. "I need to know exactly what he said."

Briefly, she closed her eyes, unable to stop the poisonous words from filtering back into her mind. He'll give up eventually, you know. You're nothing but a cheap fling, a way to pass the time while he's bored at school. Her skin crawled as she remembered Jean's face as he taunted her, the way he had stared so greedily at her chest when he ripped her shirt open. Green, really Weasley? What were you hoping to achieve with that? Stupid whore…

"Rose?"

She jumped, then put her hands over her face to hide her reaction. Merlin, she should have taken that shower. She was dirty, filthy, she needed to scrub herself clean, why hadn't she -

"Rose." This time, Scorpius took hold of her shoulders. His grip was firm and strong, and tightened when she tried to step back. "Rose look at me. Look at me."

There was an order in his voice she found it impossible to ignore. Rose dragged her eyes to his, and made herself look, really look. At the shadows under his eyes, at the crease between his brows that only showed when he was worried, at the tic in his jaw she knew meant he was clenching his teeth. At the pallor of his skin and the way his lips were pressed together and the concern swimming in his eyes and -

"Forget what he said, okay," he said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and letting his touch linger on her cheek. "Forget what happened in France. It doesn't matter now."

"I thought you were going to die." The words spilled out against her will, and she saw him flinch. "I - the k-killing curse - it came so… so close - "

He ran his thumb across her cheek, brushing at a tear she hadn't realised she had let slip. "Don't cry." He leant forward, and pressed a kiss to her temple before she could think to react. "It takes more than that French hack to get rid of me. Have a little faith, Weasley."

She gave a choked sob, and at the movement Scorpius let his hand drop. But the warmth of his kiss lingered, spreading through every inch of her. It reminded her of her dream, of the soft voice whispering assurances in her ear, and the press of lips which had felt so much like...

Understanding crested her like a wave. "That wasn't a dream," she said. "I - you - you were really there. Last night," she clarified, when his features creased in confusion. "While I was sleeping. You were there."

Scorpius stared at her for a long moment. "I promised I'd come back, didn't I?"

It seemed so simple, when he said it like that. To trust, to believe. Rose found herself wondering why she'd never been able to before.

"I never meant to hurt you." His voice was soft, an undertone she wouldn't have caught if they weren't standing so close together. "I thought I was doing the right thing by going. That I'd prove to everyone how serious I was. Prove it to him. How much you meant to me. How much I - " his lips twisted, and he shook his head. "But I didn't prove anything, did I? All I did was lose you."

His face was so close. It wouldn't take much more than a slight tilt forwards and their noses would be touching. Rose held her breath, feeling like she was standing on the edge of a precipice, her toes tingling with the urge to jump.

"Rose." The backs of his fingers brushed her temples, and her eyelids fluttered. She made a small sound, a hum in the back of her throat, her body paralysed by the warmth so close to her. "Rose, I…" Her eyes opened as he trailed off. Scorpius was watching her, wary and solemn. His hand had drifted from her face to rest lightly on her shoulder. "I need to ask you something."

A gust of wind blew across the lake. She drew his coat tighter around her, trying to find strength in the warmth that lingered in its folds. Willed him not to ask what she knew he was going to. "What?"

He inhaled deeply, never taking his eyes off her face. "Why did you kiss me?"

A thousand responses welled in her throat. She swallowed thickly, almost choking on the heaviness of her instinctual answer. Because I wanted to. Because I needed to. Because you felt like the only real thing in the whole world. Because I love you. Because I've always loved you. Because -

"I don't know." The words left her mouth like stones. "It was - the whole thing was - I shouldn't have done that, I know. I'm sorry."

Scorpius stared at her. She wished he would stop being so calm. Wished he'd get angry, or call her out, tell her she was lying to him and to herself. But he didn't. He just exhaled slowly through his nose and said, "So nothing's changed then, between you and me?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it again.

"What about Scamander?" he pressed, and she winced at the way Lorcan's name sounded on his lips. "Are you going to tell him?"

"We're not..." She cleared her throat, trying to force the words out past the lump in her throat. "Lorcan's my best friend. But he's not - we're not..."

"Not what?"

"Going to work." The truth rushed out, like a weight slipping off her shoulders. She saw Scorpius' eyes widen briefly before his expression shuttered once more. "Lorcan's my best friend," she repeated, more firmly.

"And what am I?"

Despite how close they were standing, it was impossible to read his expression. Rose shook her head. "You saved my life."

"That's not what I asked."

"Your dad - "

"Forget my dad." Scorpius swiped a hand through the air, as if Draco were a gnat he could swat away. "Forget him. He doesn't make my decisions for me. Not anymore."

She could feel tears pinpricking the corners of her eyes. "You're leaving," she said, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. "Aren't you?"

He winced. "Rose - "

She closed her eyes, feeling the hollow ache spread like an ink stain from the centre of her chest. When she opened them again, the world looked different, like all the colour had leached away. "When?" she whispered.

Scorpius dragged a hand over his face. "It doesn't have to mean what you seem to think it means."

"And what's that?"

"That you and I are over," he replied, his eyes boring into hers. "That this is the end."

Was that what she was saying? She didn't know if it was or wasn't anymore. She wanted to rewind this whole conversation and start again. Everything had come out wrong, and there was so little time to put it right. "You're leaving," she repeated miserably, as if by saying the words aloud she could somehow make herself believe them.

"I have to," he said, and for the first time she heard the undercurrent of tension in his words. "I'm enrolled in Durmstrang, Rose. I can't just drop out."

She nodded mindlessly, trying to hold back her own stupid emotions. What did you expect, a voice in the back of her mind taunted, sounding suspiciously like Jean. That he would drop everything for you and run off into the sunset? Stupid girl. "Right." She heard her own voice as if from a distance, echoing underwater. "Right, of course, I understand, I - "

"It's only a few more months."

And he was right. It was only a few months. How could she explain that it wasn't the length of time, or the distance, or any other sensible, logical, tangible thing. No, it was the possibility of having her heart broken all over again. If she dared to hope, if she let herself believe… could she risk getting hurt like that a second time? Could she survive it?

He stepped closer, his hands landing to rest on her shoulders, their grip strong and insistent as he gazed resolutely into her eyes. "Just… tell me what you want from me, Rose. Please."

I want you to stay. I want you take me in your arms and kiss me until I forget everything that's happened. I want to love you without caring what your family or my family or anybody else has to say about it.

She drew in a deep breath, and made herself slip his coat from her shoulders. The touch of the air against her skin was like a cold embrace.

"I want to stop feeling guilty and sad," she said, lifting her eyes and allowing them to trace the beautiful lines of his face, to memorise the planes and colours and patterns that were uniquely him. "And I want you to be able to do the same. I want us both to wake up in the morning and not have to worry about where we are or who we're with or whose family is melting down over the other." She saw him open his mouth and hurried on before he could interrupt, the words bubbling up from somewhere deep in her chest. "I want to find out who I am, away from - from you and Albus and Dom and my parents and - and everyone. I want to go somewhere where noone knows who I am, where noone expects me to act a certain way or think certain things or - or date certain people, just because of who my family is."

Trying not to shiver, she lifted her arm and offered his coat back to him. He took it wordlessly, his eyes pinning her to the spot, and there was something in them that made her chest ache, that made her want to blurt out all the other words she couldn't seem to find a way to say. To throw herself at him like she had in France and tell him she would wait as long as it took. For forever.

She bit her tongue until she tasted blood, then asked, "When are you leaving?"

"In an hour."

She gave a small nod of her head, trying to ignore the answering throb in her stomach. "Right." She closed her eyes, briefly, and when she reopened them she was almost surprised to find him still standing there. "Well - "

"This is really what you want, then?" The question hovered between them, and Rose felt herself flinch. "For this to be goodbye?"

She gave a stiff nod, not because it was the truth, but because the machine that had taken over her body recognised it was the answer he needed to hear, the only thing she could do to make him stop fighting her. She watched as if in slow motion as Scorpius drew back, as his shoulders dropped and his hands fell from her body to hang at his sides; she heard his breath leave him in a rush, watched the brief flicker of pain and bewilderment flash across his face, before the blankness returned, that cool sculpted marble she remembered from years ago. The carefully-schooled nothingness.

"Right," he said, in a voice that didn't sound like him at all. There was more distance between them now, though she hadn't seen him step away. "Well, I guess I should…" his gaze drifted past her shoulder, as though his attention had been caught by something. "I have some stuff to do before I leave, so I should - "

"Okay." If his voice was strange, it was nothing to how she sounded.

He stepped past her, and took three long, steady strides before stopping and turning back around. In the fading light of the afternoon his face looked paler, and older, so much older than she thought it ought to have been.

"You know," he said, in a slow, soft voice that carried back to her on the breeze. "In France, when you kissed me, I thought… for a second it felt as if..." He shook his head. "I guess it doesn't matter now, does it?"

"I guess not."

He nodded, a faint, bitter smile curling the edges of his mouth. "Well, goodbye, Rose."

She watched him turn and walk away, until his figure was all but lost in the fading light. "Goodbye," she whispered, but the only ones that heard her were the trees.

.

A/N: I have no words of thanks great enough for those of you who have continued to review and check up on this story. The fact that you still care means more than you could ever know. Until next time ~A